The Forbidden Word Game

"What's with you? That dress."

"Huh? What about it?"

The black dress that had been scorched yesterday in the robot's beam accident was, somehow, back to the way it had been before the fire—perfectly intact.

"Didn't that one get burned along the side yesterday?"

"It did. This is a different one, though?"

"What?"

"I've got a few more of the same dress in the closet."

...

Got me again.

I'd been so sure there was a story behind it. A precious gift from someone. The one and only dress that would let a person she'd been separated from as a child recognize her if they ever came looking. Something like that.

I felt bad about it all day yesterday!

For a little while I'd even been sincerely considering making her a new one, pitying the thought of her going around with a hole burned in her side. All of that was hereby revoked.

"Hm? Why are you looking at me like you want to smash me to pieces?"

"...Come on. As if. No way."

And she's sharp, too.

For someone so hopelessly naive, the Demon King could be startlingly perceptive, and her mind worked fast when it wanted to. A genuinely difficult opponent, no two ways about it.

Don't tell me...

She hadn't designed that robot too, had she? The more I found myself steered along the tracks of her intentions, the more bloated my paranoia became. At this rate I was going to turn into someone who couldn't trust anybody.

"Ah, right. Sign here first, would you?"

She held out a sheet of paper covered in what looked like contract clauses. Her handwriting was a disaster on a good day, and this had been slashed across the page so wildly I couldn't decode a single word of it.

"...What's this even say?"

"We already agreed on all of it beforehand. You just have to sign."

Her white, soft hand closed around my left one.

...Holy shit. It won't even twitch.

The motion was as delicate as a butterfly's wingbeat, but my left hand danced across the paper as if a gym-rat older brother who totaled eight hundred kilos on the big three had clamped down and started moving it for me. She wouldn't tell me what the contract said, and she was signing it however she pleased. It was a Somali-pirate-style negotiation in all but name.

"Ohoho~ All done."

She took the paper back, looking thoroughly satisfied, and went on.

"Yesterday you said you'd make me a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dress even prettier than the one you put together out of all their clothes, remember?"

I never said anything remotely that extra, you fucking bitch.

"Last night, you know, my heart was pounding so hard just thinking about it? But I was worried you might forget. So I figured I'd get the contract signed in advance.... Hehe."

...

She'd cave my skull in for breaking a promise even without a scrap of paper like that. The fact that she still wanted it in writing just meant she wanted the clothes I'd make that badly.

...I should get out of here before she finds out it was all a lie.

A brief, terrifying image flickered through my mind—the Demon King, betrayed and gone berserk, chasing me to the ends of the earth.

"Well then, as per the contract, I've got something for you too."

The Demon King tied on the alligator-leather apron that had been hanging on the kitchen wall. Of all her absurd stats, it was time for the one I actually liked best—her cooking—to shine.

If you were stranded on a deserted island and could only eat one food, what would you take with you?

It's a somewhat childish question, but my answer has always been settled. Thunderbird steak, cooked over the Demon King's hellfire.

"Nom, smk, smk."

"Hehe... You really are eating well."

The Demon King sat across from me, chin cupped in her palms, watching. Her own plate held nothing but dumped-out canned beans, and that made it hard to feel entirely at ease.

"...If there was only one piece left, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠we should've split it."

I tapped the meat with my fork as I said it.

"No. No. You eat it. I like that stuff."

...This from someone who stole food off my plate just fine on a normal day.

Her face caught my eye. Those large, beautiful crimson eyes, and the teardrop beauty mark beneath them. Thin, pale-pink lips set in a mouth that was large by contrast. The soft cheek I'd touched only yesterday. Her oil-smooth black hair, falling to her waist, tied off to one side.

A beauty who left the human realm far behind had given up the meat she adored, just for me. Dresses I owed her, promises, all of it—right now, I simply felt good.

"Hey. Want to play a game?"

The Demon King made the suggestion with a coquettish little smile, the way she always did. As familiar a pattern of our days as the morning sun spilling through the gap in the window right beside her.

"Sure."

I didn't have any particular reason to refuse... and with her being this devoted to me, I didn't want to. The days I spent playing games with the Demon King... so long as they didn't get too violent, weren't all that bad. Maybe it was pity for a girl who'd been soothing her loneliness alone in a place this remote.

"Today's game is the Forbidden Word Game."

"Sounds fun."

"Right? Right? I saw it in a catalog. Whoever says the word the other person wrote on their paper loses! You write down something you think I'll say, and leave it face-down."

She handed me a palm-sized slip of paper.

...Something the Demon King would say, huh.

Yesterday's Demon King rose unbidden in my mind.

I like it. So much.

I like it.

If I went ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠back and told people that words like that came out of the Demon King's mouth on a regular basis—the symbol of destruction and calamity—who'd believe me? I'd be a laughingstock.

I wrote I like it on the paper and flipped it face-down on the table.

"Hehe. Here."

"Hm? You already wrote yours?"

"Mhm! We start now."

She smiled, as fresh as fruit beaded with twilight dew. It was the kind of smile that lent strength even to the person looking at it. I'd like a daughter like this, I thought, and then immediately called myself an idiot for thinking it.

"Hehe. So, is that tasty?"

The Demon King, having flipped her own paper face-down, cupped her cheeks in her palms again and asked.

"Yeah. It's so fucking goo—"

...!!!!

In that instant, the Demon King's eyes narrowed to slits. Veteran Demon King's Castle Survivalist Baek Dongha's unique passive kicked in on its own and caught it.

Fuck! Almost walked into that! It's a trap!

"....Whew. Mighty tasty, that is."

Instead of my usual cheap exclamation, I wriggled out of it with a clumsy bit of dialect.

"....Tsk."

The adorable face from a moment ago was gone without a trace. The Demon King bared her teeth, as venomous as a tiger in an Indian national park that had just lost its prey.

This insane trap-laying Demon King.

Bathed in warm morning sunlight, lulled by the peaceful atmosphere this beautiful girl had so carefully staged, I'd come within a hair of getting caught without even hearing what the penalty was.

She'd clearly spent all last night designing this. Just when you started to forget, she always found a way to squeeze the tension back in. I didn't even need to look to know what was on her flipped paper. My turn now, you two-faced little traitor.

"After breakfast, want to play some Bubble Bobble for a change? It's been a while since you had a Golden Candy."

"I like iiit!!"

A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth all by itself as she threw her hand up, delighted. I flipped the paper I'd written on. The Demon King confirmed the words I like it and glared at me with a wildcat's eyes.

"...You... you rotten little liar..."

"Hm? What?"

I put on a face of perfect, wide-eyed innocence. She looked as wrecked as an otter whose already-opened clam had been snatched away, and flipped her own paper too.

Goddammit. Called it.

If it had been that dimwit Rebecca, this dinner table would have become an ancestral altar. But I, like David fleeing a bear, had nimbly slipped the trap.

Wonder what the penalty was going to be.

I was still trying to infer a penalty that had never been spoken aloud when yesterday's murder robot dropped with a thunk from behind her chair. The Demon King startled and shoved it back out of sight.

"O-oh my. What's this doing here...?"

...

Wow. She really holds a fucking grudge! That's downright vicious.

This little shit had been stewing over getting hit by the beam yesterday and had come to get even today. The steak had been bait. If I'd answered "It's so fucking good," she would absolutely have shoved that robot in my face, gone Heehee, the penalty was actually getting shot with a ray beam!, and blasted me to death.

Fuck! Friendship's over again! We are so fucking done!

I declared us broken up inside my head once more. This was exactly why you never took in a black-haired beast—or a horned one. A sentence of pure gospel truth. The only thing left to trust in this world was Langplgank.

"Okay, next game."

"More importantly, what was that robot just now?"

"...I-I don't know? Some kind of Killer Ray Robot... it was in the warehouse... maybe it got stuck to my clothes without me noticing."

The Demon King talked about the robot the way you'd talk about ketchup for dipping fries. Playing dumb, she handed me a fresh slip of paper and started writing the next forbidden word.

...After looking into that robot's glowing red eyes, my appetite had dropped off a cliff. I needed to pin down this game's penalty for certain.

"If I lose, fifty King Potatoes. If you lose, you lend me Red Hare for three days. How about it?"

A penalty I'd cooked up recently: paying the price in Little Farm currency.

"Okay. And how about we make whatever word gets you the penalty today into a forbidden word too?"

"Sure. Fine by me."

I couldn't have cared less. I could go my whole life without ever saying the words that had made me a humiliating loser.

And with that, another day of safe duty. Truly, it was the safest playground imaginable.

Boing! Boing!

I'd gotten close enough to match her, a wall-tier veteran of this game, nearly blow for blow. If I really committed to a relic like this, conquering it was only a matter of time. I strung together a multikill in seconds, and a Golden Candy popped out of a burst bubble.

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

Co-op game or not, that greedy pink monster came charging in with fire in her eyes. Not a chance.

Bwoooop!

A jump from my green dinosaur—disguised as a mistake—and the Golden Candy was mine.

"...You said you'd give me the Golden Candies... Is it tasty?"

"Ah, hit the jump key wrong."

I felt bad for her, but it couldn't be helped. Somewhere along the way I'd gotten addicted to the sound of Golden Candies in this old game myself; if one appeared in front of me, it was hard to hold back.

And after that.

Bwoop!

Bwoop!

Golden Candies kept appearing for me alone, to a degree that was starting to feel apologetic. I'd just decided I ought to yield one on purpose when one spawned under my feet the instant I jumped, and I ate it on the way down. My theory that the goddess of luck was griefing her was by now all but established fact.

"...Hmph."

She whipped around.

The Demon King, thoroughly sulking, her cheeks puffed out like a blowfish. She'd gone so far as to sit right up against the screen. Meaning she was playing with her back turned to me. Childish, honestly.

...What was this.

A strange urge welled up that was hard to explain. The way you see bubble wrap and want to pop it, even though there's nothing to gain.

The Demon King's puffed-out cheek. I was seized by a powerful desire to poke it with my finger.

...

...I've gone completely unhinged.

A little improvement in my survival technique, and here I was inventing the most ridiculous methods of suicide. I was starting to pick up her brand of madness, apparently.

Thwack!

...Huh?

Learned fear doesn't erase. That was unmistakably the sound of a dinosaur dying in the game.

I creaked my head away from the Demon King's puffed cheek and toward the screen. While I'd been staring at her in a daze, I'd shoved her pink dinosaur by mistake, and a monster had stomped it to death. Ironically, a bonus Golden Candy room was sitting right in front of us.

She whipped around!

The already-furious Demon King turned to look at me. Trembling lips, crimson eyes—a red alert no matter how you sliced it. If you scored the anger, she was at about a seventy-two.

...

I've got room to spare for this kind of thing.

The newbie Baek Dongha who'd flinched at her every petty burst of rage was gone. A little coaxing, a little soothing, and this was a level I could cover just fine.

"I'm really so—"

!!!!!

The Forbidden Word Game!

I slammed the emergency brake on my tongue.

The phrase I had on my lips at all times. There was a strong chance she'd written it. And given her intelligence, she might well have seen this situation coming.

"...Hey."

The Demon King looked ready to drop a Meteor Drive on me at any second.

Seventy-three... seventy-six... seventy-eight... the rage meter is climbing.

I had to soothe her before it was too late. What other words of apology were there. Something I didn't usually say...

"Well. That's a real shame, that is."

!!!!

No! You idiot!

My own insufferable choice of words made me want to turn myself inside out.

...No choice. Forget the Forbidden Word Game and just say sorry. Fifty King Potatoes is one day of hoeing, that's all.

"...I'm sorry. I won't go anywhere near the Golden Candies for the rest of today. If I eat one by accident, I'll compensate you at five King Potatoes apiece."

Just like that, I'd unlocked the achievement of having to avoid Golden Candies for the entire day.

"...Yeah? Heehee. Okay."

Satisfied, apparently, the Demon King came back to sit beside me and play.

...So "I'm sorry" wasn't the forbidden word.

No—more than that, she'd just said Heehee, hadn't she?

She'd hit the penalty. Because the forbidden word I'd written was Heehee.

...

I can't with this.

I'd only just managed to soothe her. I couldn't go and set her off again.

...Just let it go.

From then on, though, the Demon King—who had been eating Golden Candies to her heart's content—spent the entire day going heehee.

"Hey. About you."

"Hm?"

At the dinner table, as she scooped me a heaping portion of carrots yet again, she asked.

"That Forbidden Word Game we played this morning. What did you write?"

"W-well? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I don't really remember."

There was nothing to gain by showing her.

Oh my, I got caught and you just let it go? Because I'm thaaat bad at this? I have no further business with you. Goodbye.

Bang!

I drank the soup the Demon King had seasoned to perfection. Sweet, with a deep finish. If she ever hit Demon King retirement age, she could go out and open a restaurant and do just fine.

"...You wrote something weird, didn't you? Hand it over!"

The Demon King abandoned her meal, lunged at me, and started rummaging over my body. This wicked demon-kin witch! So this was her true nature coming out at last! In the end it was just brute force, wasn't it!

"Q-quit it!"

"It's in your pocket! Give it here!"

The Demon King snatched the paper I'd tucked in my pocket. Why hadn't I thrown that away, you sea-squirt, sea-cucumber, Dorothy-grade sea-anemone of a man, Baek Dongha.

"...What did you write? Heehee?"

"..."

I set down my spoon like a condemned man and hung my head. This was someone who threw a fit even when you let her win, so no matter what she barked at me, I had nothing to say.

"Are you stupid? Why would you write this?"

"...What?"

"You're supposed to write something I'd actually say. I'd never laugh like an idiot like that."

"...Yeah. I didn't think it through."

...She really was an idiot. I'd treat her even better starting tomorrow.

"...So what did you write, then?"

At that, the Demon King whipped her head away and sat back down. For some reason, her soft cheek had gone red again.

...

"What did you wr—"

"W-well? I don't really remember."

...That was so fucking cheap. She'd asked me first.

A relationship this one-sided couldn't possibly be friendship. Friendship's over, after all.